


The First Fall Is Hardest

by Burning_Nightingale



Category: Christian Scripture & Lore, Sefer Chanoch | Book of Enoch
Genre: Fallen Angels, M/M, Mistakes, Regret, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/pseuds/Burning_Nightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes but one transgression to scar a heart for eternity.</p><p>Even Archangels are not immune to sin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Fall Is Hardest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoreyG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/gifts).



> A comment_fic fill for the prompt 'The Book of Enoch, Raphael/Azazel, the first seduction', requested by doreyg. 
> 
> Obviously this spiralled wildly out of hand. Conceptions of the characters are pretty personal I guess? Hopefully it's not too far out there. It sort of fits the headcanon of something separate I've been writing, but this can of course be read separately.

Early morning sunlight is breaking through a passing squall, igniting into a glittering fire the raindrops still lingering on the edge of the walkway where Raphael strides, purposefully, alone; and here he meets him, face to face, for the first time.

The Almighty has already touched his dreams with whispers of archangels and heavenly revelation, so it is fair to say that Raphael’s full attention is not focused on Azazel when first they meet. It is not that Azazel is not worthy of attention; he and his companion Samyaza command a suitable following and are popular among the denizens of Heaven. But they have never met face to face and Raphael does not know him now; he almost walks dismissively past, but something in the look the other gives him convinces him to pause and give him a polite nod of the head.

“They say that He has decided to venerate you above us others,” is the first thing Azazel says, a slight smirk creasing his mouth as he returns the nod with a formal bow. “Perhaps formal congratulations will soon be in order.”

The comment throws Raphael for a moment, because the plans of the Almighty are not generally a subject to be gossiped about among the Heavenly Host, and certainly are not a topic for easy discussion between two who have never before met. “Where did you hear that?” The question comes out like a demand, and he sounds angrier than he intended to.

If anything, this makes Azazel’s smirk widen. “I have sources,” is all he says. “If you were already Archangel like Michael is, perhaps you could order me to divulge them, but for now they will remain my secret.”

Raphael has no time to make head or tail of this speech, as Azazel bows to him again and retreats down the corridor, and he cannot be sure that he does not hear him laugh near silently under his breath as he goes. He resumes his walk with a shake of the head and after an hour his annoyance and confusion fade.

The memory of that smirk, though, does not go away.

/

Later on, an Archangel confirmed and sitting on the council of the highest, Raphael hears the name ‘Azazel’ in passing and his mind latches onto it and _wonders_. The angel in the corridor had no qualms about the propriety of his statement, and he knew information that would not be public knowledge for another few weeks. Who is he?

The memory of that curved, wicked-sharp smile returns and Raphael _wonders_.

He could seek out anyone of his choosing and they would obey his command. If he wants to speak to Azazel he only has to ask. Something keeps him from speaking, though, until the day his brother says, “We are going on an expedition down to the Earth,” and in asking for the participants Raphael hears his name.

“That Azazel,” he asks, “Who is he?”

“One of the captains,” Jegudiel says dismissively, his mind on his lists.

Jegudiel knows him too well to dismiss it if he asks any further questions, so he goes to the one person he can think of who will read no more into his words than the straightforward meaning.

“Azazel?” Uriel cocks his head. He seems almost surprised that Raphael has asked, though he can’t think why that should be. “Of course I know him. His company make up a good portion of my subordinates.”

“Whom does he follow? You?” Raphael asks, his voice as casual as he can make it.

“Me, yes. Though he and his friend – you will know him, Samyaza is his name – they are often to be found in the company of Samael and his contingent.”

So the next logical step is, of course, to speak to Samael.

“Azazel?” Samael smiles benignly, twisting a strand of his golden hair around one finger, “Now, why should someone like you be interested in someone like him, I wonder?”

Raphael frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, dear one. Only, I would not have paired you two as friends.”

“Who says I seek his friendship?” Raphael asks, annoyed.

“No one, of course,” Samael says, but there is something in his smile that suggests all he says is not as it seems.

Later, confined to his chambers and pacing, Raphael admits to himself that he is stalling. Something has interested him about this Azazel character, so the logical step is to meet him again, not tip toe around the issue.

/

The next morning he calls the other angel into his presence.

The smile is just as he remembers it.

Like before, Azazel’s only greeting is a formal bow. “I hear you have been asking after me,” he says, his eyes glinting.

Raphael shouldn’t be surprised. He did hint that he had ways of knowing things before. “If I could have satisfied my curiosity without calling you here I would have done so,” he says, looking at the other angel over the distance in between them. He is seated on a marble bench, the wall behind him no more than a suggestion so as not to limit the stunning view out over clouds and terraces. Raphael cannot see it and it seems not to interest Azazel either, from the way his stare is intensely directed at him.

“And what is your curiosity?” Azazel asks quietly.

“Of that, I am not entirely sure.”

“A pity.” There is something in Azazel’s eyes that Raphael cannot fathom, but then it is gone and he is looking out of the window behind him. “Have you been to the world of men, my lord?”

Raphael nods silently.

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Azazel’s smirk is back. “The plants, the animals, the landscapes. The people.”

“It does not soothe the soul as does Heaven,” Raphael says, something about Azazel’s tone making him cautious.

“Hmm. But, sometimes, I feel it is more…interesting.” Azazel smirks as he comes closer, his footsteps slow and measured. “Would you allow me to be over bold?”

Raphael stands, suddenly feeling too vulnerable whilst sitting. “I do not know if I would like the result.”

The look Azazel gives him is calculating. “I am not so sure.”

Raphael pauses, just for a moment, wondering. Then he shakes his head. “Alas, we will never know. Leave me, please.”

Azazel pauses just a moment, his eyes flickering over Raphael’s face. Then he bows deeply and murmurs, “As you wish, my lord,” and retreats.

/

“He has bewitched you, somehow.”

Raphael’s head shoots up, jerked from his reverie. He turns to find Jegudiel behind him, his face disapproving as ever. “I was not aware I was being observed,” he says, standing straight from where he was leaning against the balcony railing.

“You were deep in thought.” Jegudiel moves around to the railing on the other end of the balcony, keeping the same distance between them. “You know I do not wish to police you, brother.”

“And yet you try so hard to convince me to acquiesce to your wishes,” Raphael says, his tone hardening.

“Have I made any demands of you recently?” Jegudiel asks, his face all fake innocence.

“You do not make demands, you drop hints.” Raphael doesn’t mean to let anger creep into his voice, but he has never had as much self-control as Jegudiel has. “All the hints you have been dropping recently seem to indicate your disapproval of a certain new acquaintance of mine.”

The line of Jegudiel’s mouth hardens. “Yes. I disapprove of _him_ greatly. And more importantly,” Jegudiel comes closer. “Of the utmost importance, is the fact that certain _others_ disapprove of him also.”

“Why?” Jegudiel is close now, attempting to tower over Raphael as he does others, but Raphael is used to that. The impact is significantly lessened by the fact that they’re exactly the same height. “What has he done to deserve such distrust?”

“There are whispers,” Jegudiel says darkly.

“ _Whispers_ ,” Raphael’s tone is scathing. “Whispers are all you have?”

“For now,” Jegudiel moves away, toward the open glass doors. “But trust me, my instincts are not wrong. Stay away from him, Raphael.”

Jegudiel leaves, and Raphael stands for a long time, watching the space where he disappeared.

/

It is only once. Just one short time. One short fall.

Azazel comes to him this time, the first time he has ever sought Raphael out. His eyes are almost angry when he throws open the door. “You have not been asking after me,” he says, standing in the doorway, his expression dark and intense.

Raphael turns with a forced casual air. “Perhaps I no longer find you interesting.”

Azazel frowns. “I know that is not the case.”

“And how do you know that?” Raphael walks to the table in the middle of the room and sets down the glass he was holding. “Can you read my mind?”

“Not quite. But close enough.” Azazel shuts the door behind him, the frown changing into a smug smile, and Raphael feels a thread of unease worm its way through his stomach.

“What do you want?” he asks, keeping his voice calm.

Azazel advances slowly across the room. “I think you know.”

Raphael didn’t before. He honestly, naïvely didn’t know. But he does now. “That is a sin.”

“Is it?” Azazel’s eyes flash. “Do you not know those who have tried it?”

“I was unaware anyone had.”

“Trust me, they have. And do you know how they have not incurred the Almighty’s wrath?” Raphael doesn’t answer, but Azazel continues as if he didn’t need one. “Penance. Penance and confession will save anyone’s soul. Even after the most grave of transgressions.”

Azazel is close now; Raphael takes a step away, keeps the distance between them. “Not everything can be absolved. Not if you do not truly repent.”

Azazel looks smug. “Trust me, you will repent. You want it, but after it is over, you will wish you had never done it.”

Raphael feels that thread of unease, uncertainty, wind itself around his chest. “Then how can you be so sure I will do it?”

“Because you want it,” Azazel comes close, leans close, and this time Raphael doesn’t move away. “And without fail, we always take what we want.”

“We must not want anything except God’s glory,” Raphael breathes, a last vain defence.

Azazel laughs, a faint laugh but full, and reaches out and drags the point of one finger down the exposed column of Raphael’s throat. “They haven’t written the rules so clearly yet,” he whispers. “The first transgression is the hardest, but oh, ‘tis the sweetest to make.”

Raphael takes one deep breath. He puts everything he knows to the back of his mind and whispers, “Then let us transgress.”

Azazel’s smile is wide, and his teeth so very white in the near-darkness.

/

Of course he repents. He always knew he would.

Jegudiel knows. And of course, as ever, he is proved right.

Azazel says nothing when he comes for him. Says nothing as the ground of Dudael opens before their feet, comes quietly when Raphael leads him down into the abyss created for him to wait out the rest of Creation.

He catches Raphael’s hand, once, one fleeting movement, as his hands are bound with irons. “It could have been you,” he whispers, his eyes alive with emotion in the dark. “Instead of them. It could have been you, had you not cast me aside.”

Raphael turns his eyes to the shackles. “You knew I would. You said I would repent.”

Azazel’s smile is a real smile now, albeit a self-pitying one. “Everyone is allowed to hope,” he whispers.

Raphael finds he cannot meet the other’s eyes, so he leans over to bind his feet. “If you had truly wanted me, you should have stayed.”

“We all make mistakes. It seems some mistakes are less worthy of forgiveness.”

Azazel’s feet are bound. Raphael stands, takes a long breath, and forces himself to meet the other’s eyes. “It is not the nature of the transgression, but whether or not you repent.”

Azazel’s lip curls in what is almost a sneer. “Repentance. Yes. That seems to be the key with our Lord.”

Very, very quietly, Raphael says, “If you had repented, you could have come home.”

Azazel snorts. “Do you truly believe that?” He looks upward, to where the light of day just about filters into the dark hole beneath the earth. “I think that the Almighty loves His power too much. Who is He to say what we should and should not teach the mortals?”

“He is God,” Raphael answers simply.

“Answer me this, Raphael,” Azazel says softly. “Baraqijal taught astrology. Kokabel taught the constellations. Ezeqeel taught the knowledge of the clouds, Araqiel the signs of the earth, Shamsiel the signs of the sun, and Sariel the course of the moon. What is so evil in those subjects that man must not know it?”

“Samyaza taught them enchantments, knowledge they were never meant to use,” Raphael says quietly, “And you taught them warfare, how to make weapons. And you taught them about cosmetics, concealment and trickery. You made them vain.”

“Why should they not be vain?” Azazel whispers. “They are wonderful, are they not? Possessed of such strong free will. For us, it takes great strength and effort of will to deviate from God’s chosen path, and yet they find it so easy.”

“That is no good thing.”

“Is it not?” Suddenly, Azazel sounds angry. “Why should we have our destiny dictated to us by Him?”

“Because He is God.”

“Just because He made the world, does that give Him the right to decide the fate of every being within it?” Azazel asks, his eyes burning into Raphael’s own.

Raphael does not want to feel the uncertainty Azazel’s questions engender within him. He does not want to question the life that has been given to him. And most of all, he never again wants to feel the guilt the transgression Azazel tempted him into brought with it. So he steps back and says, “Azazel, you have been sentenced by the God, the Almighty, Highest of the High, to dwell here in darkness, cut off from life and from light, until the end of days and the Coming of Judgement where you shall be cast into the flame. Abide here undisturbed until that Day comes.”

“It could have been you,” is all Azazel says. “Remember that.”

When Raphael emerges from the ground, the hole he created seals itself. Raphael makes the ground lie flat, smooth as it ever was, leaving no trace of what is hidden beneath. Then he stays for a while, staring at the earth, unsure what to think but unable to come away.

Footsteps behind him shake him out of his thoughts. “Have you come to lecture me?” he asks, imagining the smug triumph that must be glittering in Jegudiel’s eyes.

“No. I came to take you home.”

Raphael turns, surprised, to find Michael walking across the rough ground toward him, a sad look on his face. “I thought you were meant to be binding the others,” he says.

Michael nods. “It is done. They are bound, their children are gone, and Noah is preparing for the flood. All shall be as God has promised.” He reaches out with one hand. “Now, come home with me, Raphael.”

Raphael turns to look back at the ground, just once. He can’t let Azazel’s words influence him. God is the beginning and the end; God is the truth, the light. He is life.

So he turns and takes Michael’s hand, and their spread white wings dazzle in the harsh sunlight.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of clarification:
> 
> I used Jegudiel for the name of one of the archangels because, aside from the main four, no one seems to be able to agree on the other three names (if you assume there are seven). So I just chose one I liked.
> 
> And yes, Samael is pre-Fall Lucifer. I can't remember if there's any clarification of timeline, but it seems to me that the Watchers would have been thrown out of Heaven after Lucifer and his companions, but I don't know for sure.


End file.
